The 194th Hunger Games
by kkfanfic
Summary: Create your own tribute and watch him/her play it out! Make your tribute unique and memorable! Only one will win! But most of all, may the odds be ever in your favor...
1. Tribute Form

Welcome to the 194th Hunger Games!

I will write a story using the tributes that you submit! It will be a first come, first serve basis. Please just copy and paste the questions below and fill them out!

Name:

Gender:

District:

Chosen or Volunteered:

Family/ friends:

Appearance:

Personality:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Weapon:

Romance?:

Interview Angle:

Token:


	2. Chapter 1: The Reaping of District One

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins**

(I created these characters, so they will not win)

**Chapter One: The Reaping of District One**

**POV: Clayton**

I woke up this morning at about six, because I just couldn't wait. See, today was Reaping Day, or the day when a boy and girl from each district would be chosen to go into the Hunger Games. I have been training all my life for this very day.

I would have volunteered sooner, but my father, the mayor of district one, wanted me to wait until I was eighteen, so that I could be one of the oldest in the arena, and so I could train for longer.

I walk over to Ageta's house. Ageta is my girlfriend. We have been training together for a few years now. We plan on going into the arena as one and making it to the very end. I haven't though past killing everyone else… I can't image killing her.

Since Ageta and I are so comfortable with each other, I just walk into her house and silently ascend to her room.

She is sleeping, so I wake her up by tugging at her shirt. She immediately wakes up, stares into my eyes, and smiles.

"Today is the first days of the rest of our lives," she says with a wide grin.

She sits up as I sit on the bed next to her.

"We are going to be the most famous victors ever!" I laugh, but inside all I can think about is how only one of us can make it back.

"All the sponsors will want us!" she says as her eyes widen.

I nod and tell her that I will be back in a few hours, once I'm ready.

At home, I change into a nice sports coat with navy pants. I personally think I look handsome.

I brush my short, silver hair and smile. _I will be remembered. _I think to myself. I look into the mirror one last time before leaving to get Ageta.

**POV: Ageta **

I put on my white dress with the flowers on it and stare into the mirror. What I notice is my grey eyes, my black hair that is in a pony tail, and my paper thin lips. I always hated my lips.

I take a deep breath and my mind starts to wander. _Is this really what I want? Will I have sponsors? Will I have to kill Clayton? _

Finally, Clayton arrives, which stops my thoughts in mid flight. Thank god.

He looks so unlike himself with a sports coat on. His black eyes look back into my grey ones. How could I kill him?

We walk to the town square, which was busy and full of people, like always. The people here are very elegant, which goes against my personality completely!

I go stand with the other girls between the ages of 12 and 18. I happen to be an 18-year old. This makes me more desirable, which is okay because I plan on being picked anyway.

A man walks up to the stage and introduces himself as Huntley Simmons. I had seen him before. He was the chaperone who would take the tributes to the capitol.

"Welcome to the 194th Hunger Games Reaping!" He says as he flashes a grin, "Let's just get right to the point! Starting with the girls!"

He reaches his hand into the bowl with all of the girls' names in it. I finally see his arm tense around a name. He pulls it out and says, "Camilia Pena!"

Camilia looks around 12 years old, which makes the crowd sigh. She walks up to the stage and looks into the gossiping crowd.

"Any volunteers?" Huntley asks. Just about every year a person would volunteer. However, for the last few years, there has been a lack of volunteers. This may be because peacekeepers came and investigated some illegal Hunger Game training, which scared off most of the Careers.

"I would like to take her place!" I yell as I walk up to the stage. Camilia makes a _thank god she volunteered_ sigh and walks off the stage to who seems to be her mother and father.

"How exciting!" Huntley says, "Now for the boys!"

I look down at Clayton, who seems ready to volunteer. I just pray that he doesn't decide to back out and leave me alone in the games. But, I know him and he would never do that.

"Wakely Camelle!"

He is a skinny boy that I had seen in the streets a few times. Nothing special.

"Any volunteers?" Huntley asks again.

"Me! Clayton Newman!" Clayton yells as he makes his way to the stage.

I look at him and smile. This is really happening! All of the pieces of my mind start to fall into place.

At that moment, I felt that together, Clayton and I could do anything.

**I still need the following tributes: Both from 3; Male from 5; Both from 6; Female from 7; Female from 9; and Both from 10! Just send a private message or comment to get those to me!**


	3. Chapter 2: The Reaping of District Two

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins**

**Tributes still needed (look at bottom of chapter to see who is needed)**

Chapter 2: The Reaping of District Two

**POV: Crimson **

I ride the elevator up from deep underground. I just got done with work. I don't like my job that much, but it pays the bills. All day, I just operate the conveyor belt in one of the many rock quarries in district two.

I hate elevators. This may be because I am claustrophobic. Whenever I'm in some sort of a small space, I tense up.

When the elevator finally arrives above the surface, I quickly exit. Then, I look up at the sun. I rarely see the sun, because I am in the mine all day. This explains why my skin is pale, but can anyone explain why I have red eyes?

Sometimes I wonder if I got the red eyes from my parents, since I have never seen my parents.

They didn't want me.

I was left at an overcrowded orphanage that smelled of rust, dirt, and sweat. Nobody ever adopted me, probably because of my red eyes.

It wasn't until I reached my house that I realized how much my eye hurt. I look into a broken mirror in my tiny apartment. Yep. Just what I thought: a black eye.

But how did I get this black eye? Then I remembered. I had gotten into a fight earlier with another miner. He wanted me to cover his shifts, but when I refused, he threatened to tell the boss about me leaving work early on some days. I walked out with a black eye. He walked out with a broken hand.

I look at my black hair in the mirror. The color of my hair makes the dust more noticeable, which I hate.

So, I take a shower and wash out all of the troubles of work, when I remember tomorrow is Reaping Day.

This makes me start thinking about if I will get chosen. Doubtful. My name may be in there 7 times, but there are usually Careers who actually _want _to go into the arena. I am not one of those people.

_Nobody would miss me anyway…_ I think to myself as I change into shorts and t-shirt for bed. _Nobody at all…_

I walk to the town square at about one in the afternoon. I am not so excited.

I look around and all I can see is rich, stuck-up kids that have close ties with the capitol. I, however, hate the capitol. This may be because they can't even get enough money for one lousy orphanage, but it may also be that I have never really cared for the Hunger Games. Everyone in district two gets excited for the games, because we happen to win a lot. But, that's only because we have the Careers.

Yule Cosby, the chaperone for district two, walks up to the podium and taps the microphone.

Yule had a friendly face, unlike the district two mentors: Radley Richmer and Freya Landman. They were just plain cruel, which I'm fine with.

"And our boy is…" Yule says slowly, "Herbert Shacklestein!"

I hear a loud squeal from the crowd, and then see her face. A woman holding a baby that looked about thirty started to cry. My guess is that she is his mother.

A scrawny boy that looks no older than twelve walks up to the stage. He slumps as if he had 100 pounds of bricks on his back. His skinny arms seem to blow a little when the wind blew hard enough. This boy was fragile.

"Any volunteers?" Yule asks, probably expecting about five hands to go up, but the air was silent, "No volunteers?"

Even I am surprised. There hasn't been no volunteers for about ten years.

The mother of the boy continues to cry and starts screaming, "Don't take my little boy! Please! I'll do anything!"

_That boy will be missed. _I thought. Then, my mind just started generating idea after idea, until finally I knew what I was going to do.

I raise my hand and yell "I volunteer!"

**POV: Tisbee **

I walk into the big, empty building I call "home."

But this place was no home. It was a place where I just happen to sleep. Nothing more. It would be a home if anyone was ever in it. My father is a peacekeeper and is very busy _all the time_. And for my mother, all she does is shop, shop, shop.

The only people I see in the house all the time are the servants.

I walk into the kitchen and see a small piece of paper on the counter that says _Nihm came, but you were gone, so I sent him away. – Lexia Bentella _

Oh, how I love Lexia. She is my maid and one of my close friends. And Nihm…. Well, let's just say he is not my most favorite guy.

We used to date, but it didn't work out. Right when I was getting really close to him, he just distanced himself. I vowed to never let myself get hurt again.

Luckily, I had Reese to help me through my boy troubles. Reese is my stubborn best-friend. She absolutely despises the capitol, which gets us in a lot of fights. But at the end of the day, we apologize for the hurtful words that were said and hug. I just don't know what I would do without her.

If it wasn't for Reese, I probably would be alone every day in my vast house. Luckily, she comes to my house all the time. She even has her own room in my house right beside mine, which makes me feel less lonely.

I don't have any other friends because it's hard to tell if they like me for me or because of my father. When people find out about how important my dad is to the capitol, they try to be my friend, so that they can get closer to the capitol. Sad, really.

Sometimes I just wish my father never became a peacekeeper.

I walk into my room and sit on my bed, thinking.

In my room, there is a bunch of dummies that I practice knife throwing at. I have become quite good, actually.

I casually grab a knife that is sitting on my bedside table, and without looking, hit the dummy where his heart would be. Perfect. Just like every other time.

I go to bed with little fears. I will probably not get chosen and if I do, I will get sponsors for sure, because of my father. I guess that is a perk to having what I call a "Capitol Dad."

When I wake up, it is already noon. So, I put on a light purple, flowy dress that has ripples on the bottom. Then, I put a headband in my dark blonde, chin-length hair. Finally, I put on my 3-inch high heels, because I am only 5'3".

I take one last look at myself in the mirror before heading out. My plush, pink lips are glossed and apparently "beautiful," although I really don't agree.

This is my second to last reaping because I am 17. This thought makes me a little excited, because I really don't like Reaping Day. Not because I don't like the games, but because it means standing in the hot sun with nice clothes on.

I sigh as Yule Cosby walks to the microphone and announces that the boy will be announced first, like always.

"Herbert Shacklestein!" Yule yells.

If I had to go into the arena, it would not be with him. He was twig-like and looked easy to break.

Then, I hear screams from a woman in the audience, probably his mother, "Don't take him! He is my little boy! Please! No!"

When there were no volunteers, she cried even harder.

But, the strangest thing happened. A pale boy that looked about 18 raised his hand and volunteered.

He doesn't look anything like Herbert Shacklestein, so I assume that there is no relation. Maybe a friend? Doubtful. Career? I would have seen him if he was a Career. Plus, he doesn't look that strong. Could it be that this strange pale 18 year old is doing him a _favor_?

This mysterious boy has a name: Crimson. This name seems appropriate because of the crimson highlights in his black hair. And he has red eyes, which scares me.

Then, they call out the girls' name.

"Reese Hummington!"

My mouth goes dry. I cannot speak. I cannot even begin to process what just happened. But, before I know it, I see Reese walk up to the stage silently. This was the last thing she wanted! She hated the capitol and the Hunger Games!

I had to do something!

Before they could even ask for volunteers, I run up to the stage, step in front of Reese and announce, "Take me instead!"

**I am still looking for the following tributes (if they are not filled, I will create them): both from 3, boy from 5, boy from 6, girl from 9, both from 10, and boy from 11. Please respond soon if you want a tribute from district 3 because I am writing it tomorrow!**


	4. Chapter 3: The Reaping of District Three

** Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins**

**Chapter 4 will be out Sunday**

**No more tributes needed**

Chapter 3: The Reaping of District Three

**POV: Vulcan**

I watch the tape of my father dying in the arena over and over again. This is what motivates me.

When I turned ten, I heard my mom, Aunt Jenna, and Uncle Milo talking about how tragic it was that my father died in the Hunger Games.

Since then, I have been training to go into the arena. When I turn eighteen, I am going to volunteer and avenge my father. I'm not exactly ready to go into the arena yet, but I will be in about a year. After all, I'm only sixteen. I have plenty of time to train.

After the death scene finishes, I walk up to my shared bedroom, shut the door, and start doing push-ups. Every time my upper body comes off the ground, I see the horseshow pin that my father wore into the arena on the wall.

Apparently the tokens of the dead tributes get sent back to the families.

Kyle walks into the room, looking kind of nervous.

He goes straight for his closet and starts digging around.

"Hey, Kyle. What's with the nervousness?" I ask.

Kyle was my nerdy twelve year old cousin who I loved. He is basically like a brother to me, since I have lived with him my entire life.

"I got to find the _perfect _outfit for tomorrow! What if I get picked? What will the capitol think of me? Will I return a hero?" Kyle rambles.

"Woah! Slow down there, Kyle! Don't count on getting picked. You're name is in there once. Plus, you actually _want _to be a tribute?" I frown.

"Well, no, but I want to be prepared, just like you!" he smiles.

I help him pick out an outfit and we go to sleep, only to awake to giggling.

Maggie is my best friend. She has been helping me train. She is the one person in the world that I could tell my fears too. I could only pray that she doesn't get picked.

"Wake-up, sleepy heads!" she laughs.

I get out of bed, dress, and eat.

Then, I walk with Maggie and Kyle to town central, which is a polluted, dull, concrete place that does not look suitable to live in.

Lydianna Sianda is already at the podium, ready to announce the tributes. She was always a rushed person. Always seems like she has so much to do, when in reality, I don't know what she does besides chaperoning tributes.

Then, I see Suzina Albright, the district three mentor this year. Her small body is trembling as she sits in a chair behind Lydianna.

"Welcome one and all! We are behind schedule, so let's get started! For the boys: Kyle Ceeders!" Lydianna booms.

It takes me about 5 seconds to process that _Kyle _will be going into the arena. _Kyle? _The boy that used to get in trouble for sticking pencils up his nose? This can't be! Something must be wrong!

But, sadly, there is no mistake. Kyle will be a tribute.

I push though the crowd and make my way to the stage, where Kyle is standing by Lydianna.

"I volunteer!" I yell as loudly as I can.

"Okay, then!" Lydianna laughs, "What is your name?"

"Vulcan Ceeders!"

**POV: Eviana **

I don't try to be mean to everyone, but what else am I supposed to do? I am the "evil twin."

My twin sister, Isabellie, was always the good one. She has good grades, a pretty face, and friends.

Well, I have friends, but we don't always get along well.

I look into my mirror and fix my long black hair. Then, I see the scar that runs down my face. I got it from my friend Franchesca a few years back.

I respect Franchesca, though, mostly because she is my only friend that will talk back to me. Opal, my other friend, would _never _knife me in the face.

However, I don't like Opal because she is feisty, but because she is caring.

One time, when I went to her house, I couldn't find her. Finally, after looking for about five minutes, I found her in her basement that she rarely uses. She had found bird that somehow got trapped and she was determined to get it out. It took about twenty minutes, but we got that bird out.

I feel like I am a mix between Franchesca and Opal, because I am fierce, but caring when it involves my loved ones.

I make some final touches to my red dress that I have to wear for the Reaping and head out the door.

Then, I remember that I forgot my flame earrings that I got as a gift from Franchesca after our knife fight. If she knew that I forgot, she would kill me!

I head back inside quickly, grab the earrings, and run out the door.

District three really isn't pretty, or big, or clean. Pollution from the factories makes the air have a slightly grey tent to them.

The buildings are boxy and in my opinion, ugly. Sometimes I think to myself that I should be in a different district, but I'm not exactly sure which district I belong to.

The boys and girls start filing in and organizing by age.

I look towards the end of the line at all the twelve year olds and feel sorry for them. They must be frightened. I know I was!

Suddenly, I feel a finger tap on my shoulder. I turn around to find Isabellie, Franchesca, and Opal.

"Like the earrings," Franchesca smiles.

Isabellie pulls me aside to tell me something.

"Evie, I need to tell you something _really _important. I should have told you sooner," Isabellie frowns.

"Well?" I ask.

"I'm-" she begins, but the annoying Lydianna is in a hurry to get this over with, just like every other year.

She says a quick hello and tells us how we are behind schedule, but I don't really pay attention. Instead, I am focusing on a boy with ebony hair and violet eyes. I have seen him before. I think his name is Vulcan, but I may be mistaken. But where do I remember him from?

Then, I remember. His dad was a district 3 tribute. He died, but he made it pretty far in the games.

I see Vulcan's expression change drastically from a casual look to a "help me, God" look. That's when I realize that the boy tribute had been chosen and it was his little cousin that was always following him around.

Before I knew it, Vulcan was on stage, _volunteering _to take his cousin's place.

I never knew that Vulcan loved his cousin that much.

"And for our girl tribute…" Lydianna draws a name, "Eviana Keller!"

People look at Isabellie and me, since we look a lot alike. I begin to walk up to the stage when Isabellie grabs onto my shoulder from the back.

"Let me go instead, Evie!" she cried.

I just keep walking, totally ignoring her. She can't go in for me! Even though it doesn't seem like it at times, I love her. Plus, she has more to lose than me.

I stand on stage by Lydianna. From this view, I can see all the faces in the audience. Some were bored and some were concerned. I look at Isabellie and her watered eyes.

She would never forgive me for not letting her take my place.


End file.
